“Such things should not be trifled with; besides,
you would lose your wager. Joyous courage, Querida,
was buried long ago, and too many cares insure its
having no resurrection. The good gifts which Heaven
formerly permitted me to enjoy have lost their zest;
instead of bread, it now gives me stones. The
best enjoyment it still grants me—­I am honest
and not ungrateful in saying so—­is a well-prepared
meal. Laugh, if you choose! If moralists
and philosophers heard me, they would frown. But
the consumption of good things affords them pleasure
too. It’s a pity that satiety so speedily
ends it.”

While speaking, he again descended a few steps, but
the Queen, supporting him with the utmost solicitude,
answered cheerily:

“The baser senses, with taste at their head,
and the higher ones of sight and hearing, I know,
are all placed by your Majesty in the same regiment,
with equal rank; your obedient servant, on the contrary,
bestows the commissions of officers only on the higher
ones. That seems to me the correct way, and I
don’t relinquish the hope of winning for it the
approval of the greatest general and most tasteful
connoisseur of life.”

“If the new cook keeps his promise, certainly
not,” replied Charles, entering into his sister’s
tone. “De Rye asserts that he is peerless.
We shall see. As to the senses, they all have
an equal share in enabling us to receive our impressions
and form an opinion from them. Why should the
tongue and the palate—­But stay! Who
the devil can philosophize with such twinges in the
foot?”

“Besides, that can be done much better,”
replied the Queen, patting the sufferer’s arm
affectionately, “while the five unequal brothers
are performing the duties of their offices. The
saints be praised! Here we are at the bottom.
No, Carlos, no! Not through the chapel! The
stone flags there are so hard and cold.”

As she spoke she guided him around it into the dining-room,
where a large table stood ready for the monarch’s
personal suite and a smaller one for his sister and
himself.

The tortured sovereign, still under the influence
of the suffering which he had endured, crossed himself
and sat down. Quijada and young Count Tassis,
the Emperor’s favourite page, placed the gouty
foot in the most comfortable position, and Count Buren,
the chamberlain, presented the menu. Charles
instantly scanned the list of dishes, and his face
clouded still more as he missed the highly seasoned
game pasty which the culinary artist had proposed
and he had approved. Queen Mary had ordered that
it should be omitted, because Dr. Mathys had pronounced
it poison for the gouty patient, and she confessed
the offence.